Apology
by Secretary Squeaky
Summary: His Grace had no intention of even considering marriage to the conniving Miss Granger. Yet trap him into marriage she did. Both parties miserable with the decision, can a box of letters help rectify wrongs? Can either one of them-apoligize? R&R :


Disclaimer: Story plot is mine...everything else is JKRowlings.

With a groan the dark haired beauty dropped her head unto the vanity. "Ugh!" she groaned, "Why why why?" Propping her elbows on the table she looked at herself in the mirror. Her large eyes and fair skin were lit up in the candlelight but this time she wasn't checking her looks, instead she was scrutinizing herself for an altogether different reason. "Of all the people in all of bloody England it had to be him?"

Of course the him she was speaking off was her just now recent husband. Recent! she thought bitterly, try as of three days ago! Skewering her face up she silently berated herself for having got caught with him. Of all people !, she thought. With a another, quieter groan she dropped her head back onto the vanity. But as it had the first time his face flooded her thoughts once again. The dark untamable hair, the deep expressive emerald eyes. The hate in those emerald eyes. She wasn't the one he was supposed to marry. Not in the slightest. It was Ginny all along-Ginny he should have been married to these last three days. "Why, oh, why?" she quietly asked herself.

"I don't know, maybe you can answer that for me," came a quiet masculine voice from the doorway. Shocked the girl sat up to her full height as she spinned quickly around to see that he was standing there in the doorway. Him in only a dress shirt, and breeches. Him with his all too serious eyes. Assessing the situation she decided that it would do no good for her to stay in the room with him. To feel the distain he has for her. Getting up she said, "I'm sorry if I intruded, Your Grace. I wish you a good night." With an elegantly executed curtsy she moved to walk past him.

Instead of letting her walk past him he reached and caught her by her waist. "Don't go," he whispered in her ear. "Not yet. I need to tell you something."

Surprised at his suddenly sweet tone towards her she looked up. "Your Grace?" she breathed.

Without letting go of his grip on her the Duke let his head fall on her shoulder. Alarmed the girl could only whisper, "Your Grace! Are you alright?"

"No," he murmured, alarming her further. Lifting his head ever so slightly he said, "Not until I apologize."

"Apologize?" breathed the girl. "Whatever for? I am the one that should be sorry. I trapped you into getting married to me or otherwise risk your reputation, Your Grace." The man chuckled, a rich sound that made her want to do positively unacceptable things to or with him. It mattered not, she told herself, She wouldn't be able to as it was.

So lost in her thoughts she didn't realize that he was studying her face. At length he said, "Yes, apologize. For the horrific way that I treated you. After reading the letters you wrote to your aunt I realized that I was horribly terribly wrong about you."

Suddenly coming out of her stupor the girl drew a shocked breath. "You read my letters?"

The Duke smiled wryly. "Yes. But be glad of it or otherwise I never would have found of your innocence in entrapping me." Suddenly he smiled a genuine smile. "Can you forgive an old coot?"

Her head reeling from what he had just confessed the girl nodded. "Yes. I guess so."

"You guess so?" asked the Duke. The girl nodded. In truth she had already forgiven him complexly because if she thought about it, and she had, she could see completely why he had thought she had willingly tried to have her found in the position that she had been with him. Once again the Duke studied her face. In it he found surprise, indignation and most of all-resignation. Determining that she would not just resign herself to a fate with him he decided it was time to take action. Teasing he asked, "Oh you guess so? Then, I think I should convince you shouldn't I?"

With that he leaned in and kissed her so thoroughly that her head reeled. For the first time in what seemed an age she said, nay whispered his name. "Harry."

Harry smiled. "Right you are." Picking her up like the new bride that she was he carried her out of her room and into his bedroom. Lightly depositing her on his large four-poster bed he leaned in to kiss her again. "So am I forgiven or not?"

The girl smiled. "Maybe."

His Grace, the Duke, Harry, grinned rakishly. "Then I shall have to convince you to forgive me for the last three days wont I?" Practically ripping his shirttails off he then leaned in towards her. Lying next to her he began kissing her all over. The girl smiled a little but her smile faltered.

"What of Ginny?" she asked.

"What about her?" Harry responded still immersed in the process of making his Duchesses skin crawl with goose bumps at his touch. For her part the girl only sighed. Looking up the Duke saw her eyes were watering with unshed tears. "Look," he said, "I know I have been mopping these last three days. I am truly sorry for it. I once loved her. But she isn't the girl I married." Then leaning in towards her so he could whisper in her ear he said, "I yearn too Hermione. I yearn."

Hermione, looked at him with unshed tears. Practically jumping him she kissed him. Coming up for air Harry asked, "Am I forgiven then?"

Hermione, the new Duchess, smiled. "Of course."


End file.
